Roommate Rumba

It’s been a few months and I think I have a handle on this college bit. I know people, I make it to my classes, and I have friends.

This means that I can further test the waters of my roommates. Don’t get me wrong. They’re great roommates. I’ve heard horror stories of bad roommates (like getting peed on). You can simply look through this blog and find rants about roommates.

So, here’s the background: I live in the dorms with 2 other girls. We have an apartment, basically, because they turned some married student housing into undergrad. We have our own bathroom, a living room, a fridge, a stove, and all the other cool stuff that an apartment should have. I’ve been doing almost all the grocery shopping (and both of my roommates are loaded with money…) and the cleaning. I’m the one who calls them when they don’t come home to make sure that they’re not on the side of the road somewhere.

So, I decided to leave for the weekend, get some fresh air, and see how long it would take them to realize that I’m not there, and I won’t be for a few days.

I left on Friday after class. I packed my backpack with everything I needed so it wouldn’t look suspicious and so I could just leave without going back to the dorm. I had a friend who lives near Chicago come pick me up. (We haven’t seen each other in a while, so said person didn’t mind making the drive. There were other reasons for me leaving, as I said above.)

I left campus around 4:30pm. We made it to said friend’s house around 6:30 (we had some car trouble). We then proceded to Chicago for said friend’s father’s name day (it’s a Greek thing). So, we wandered around Chicago for a while, and I tried to think positive, as if my roommates would realize that I wasn’t there and never said anything about leaving.

I didn’t receive a text message until 3 AM (their time). So much for concern about my well being. I literally could’ve been on the side of some road somewhere and all I would’ve gotten was a text message at 3AM. Thanks, guys. I feel the love.

On the other hand, they have to fend for themselves until Sunday. That means that they’ll have to go buy their own soda (if they don’t steal mine that I have specifically for me), clean the place themselves, do the dishes, and they’ll actually have to get dirty for once.

In a weird way, I’m looking forward to getting back, just for the looks on their faces.